


Entr'acte I

by editoress



Series: On Family [2]
Category: Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:20:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27310339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/editoress/pseuds/editoress
Summary: Lio stumbles onto evidence of how truly Kipo and Scarlemagne have bonded, and sees Hugo for the first time in years.The final scene of "Family by Persistence" from Lio's POV.
Relationships: Lio Oak & Scarlemagne | Hugo
Series: On Family [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1893013
Comments: 6
Kudos: 114





	Entr'acte I

Lio knows exactly where to find Kipo. Sometimes he wishes he didn’t. Being afraid of Hugo is how all this started, but even so, he can’t shake the doubt that he’s dangerous. Lio still worries. Maybe he’ll always worry. But if Kipo didn’t try, didn’t see the best in people, she wouldn’t be Kipo. He’s proud of her for that. It’s really something, when your kid is growing up to be a better person than you. Even if he can’t always believe the way she does, he wants to encourage it.

He climbs to where the Timbercats keep Hugo, high enough to be isolated from the rest of the village. The forest floor shows between the steps. It’s lucky Lio isn’t bothered by heights. A lone Timbercat stands guard on the stairs—well, actually, she sits, looking bored out of her mind. She lets Lio pass with a nod and continues scratching lightly at the bark of the tree. Lio nods back and takes the last few steps.

His baby girl is here, all right. Kipo is stretched out on the wooden platform, dead asleep. How many times has he walked in on her like this, passed out on the couch after a long day? And with her blanket all twisted up—

No. Not _her_ blanket.

Inside the cell, Hugo is absorbed in a book, and that aches a little bit. Because how many times did Lio walk in on _Hugo_ like this, reading by the light from the hallway when he was supposed to be asleep? And as if Lio is seeing a memory, Hugo looks up, startled and still halfway in the world of whatever he’s reading. He looks so young again. Lio almost expects him to sheepishly close the book and say he was just going to lie down.

Instead, Hugo puts on a haughty Scarlemagne expression and gestures as if giving Lio permission to wake Kipo. But it’s too late—Lio saw him. For a moment, that was Hugo, that was _his kid_ looking at him. Kipo was right; he’s still in there.

Lio swallows down the tightness in his throat and goes to Kipo. He has to call her name, but she wakes up as gracefully as she ever does. He helps her up, and then she crashes against his shoulder as if she intends to fall asleep standing up. Lio teases, “Looks like it’s past somebody’s bedtime.”

“Jaguars don’t have bedtimes,” she mutters without opening her eyes. She has the blanket drawn around her shoulders. The thing is, Lio can’t figure how she could have possibly gotten it unless Hugo gave it to her.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed.” It’s a wonderful thought. But still, the blanket has to stay. Lio isn’t making _that_ mistake again. They’re trying to make things right, and maybe that starts here. He tugs on the hem of the blanket and Kipo reluctantly lets go.

“She can keep it,” Hugo says—protectively, like he’s annoyed Lio tried to take something from Kipo. “For now.” He did give her the blanket after all, and now he’s offended. Lio can’t seem to guess right when it comes to this blanket. But that’s okay, because between the two of them, Kipo and Hugo figured it out.

They have to try. They have to start somewhere. And while Lio was watching for Scarlemagne, Hugo’s been up here, with Kipo. Reading and playing piano and lending out his blanket. Lio hasn’t let himself think about it in maybe ten years, but he’s missed all that, so much. He’s missed his kid, and he’s got no one to blame for that but himself. It’s Lio’s turn to try. He’s got a lot of time to make up for. So he offers a tiny, quiet olive branch that Hugo can pretend he didn’t notice. “Goodnight, Hugo.”

Hugo’s eyes widen. He doesn’t say anything, just looks up at him. He looks frightened and eager at the same time, hungry for something he doesn’t trust is really there. Lio’s heart breaks.

Kipo yawns right in Lio’s ear. “’Night, Hugo,” she says.

“Goodnight, Kipo,” Hugo replies softly. And just like that, Lio can stop worrying about Kipo visiting. He knows that look, that tone of voice. Hugo isn’t just playing along while he’s imprisoned; he really loves her. And who wouldn’t?

Hugo glances one more time, young and nervous and a little hopeful, at Lio. And then he buries his nose in his book again. Lio wants to make this last longer—he wants to see _his Hugo_ again—but it doesn’t work like that. He won’t push his luck. He leads Kipo down the stairs, and she follows drowsily.

It’s enough to know both his kids are here and safe, and they can try again tomorrow.


End file.
